#TEASER TUESDAY For My Upcoming Release “Halloween House Party”

Halloween House Party is another short horror novel from my twisted mind. The book will be up for pre-order within the next week (I’ll keep you posted).

Twin brothers, Chris and Craig along with their roommate Goober have been planning a blowout Halloween party for months. It’s their senior year of college, their last time to really throw down.When an unfortunate accident meets wrong place at the wrong time, the boys are determined not to let the setback literally crash their party. As the Halloween shenanigans continue, an escaped psycho killer joins the party for his own breed of murderous fun.

This exclusive teaser will only be available for a limited time!

“He did it again.”

The cell was empty.As usual, there were no signs of escape. It was only a matter of time…

“This can’t be happening!” the nurse exclaimed. She’d been there the first time he struck, the second, and now the third. It was like a horror movie with endless sequels. Only this was real.

Everyone called him The Brookhaven Butcher. His real name didn’t matter; he wasn’t even human. Putting a real name with the face would do little to justify his actions. It seemed as if his real name was lost to time. Trying to humanize this monster was a wasted effort.

The nurse and the doctor looked at each other, panicked. Neither of them could believe it, yet they should’ve known it would happen.

“We put state of the art security in this bastard’s cell. He hasn’t been outside this shit hole since 1989! How the hell did he get out?” the doctor yelled, frustrated and terrified, as beads of sweat formed on his brow, the color draining from his round face.

“Not true,” the nurse said. “You weren’t here in ’04. Only that time we caught him before he could do too much damage. He’s a psychotic killer. Don’t put anything past people like that, something you should know. We do work in a facility for the mentally insane after all.”

The doctor sighed. “I don’t need your shit right now, Sharon. We need to get this situation under control. Call a code red. Put this place on lockdown. I’ll get in touch with the police. With it being Halloween, an APB is vital, especially with the college kids out partying.”

The nurse knew what he was talking about. Locals never forgot what happened on Halloween 1989. They tried by locking the Butcher away – but he always found a way to remind them…

Everyone in town knew the tale. The younger generations thought it was an urban legend. Parents lied to their children when asked about the stories of the Brookhaven Butcher, telling them that it was only a story meant to scare kids on Halloween. The kids didn’t know it was all true.

The nurse sped down the hallway to the phone, on her way to theoretically save the day, when she let out a bone chilling scream.

The doctor came running down the hall and stopped right before he stepped into a giant puddle of blood.

“Oh. My. God,” he stammered looking like he was going to barf.

A night shift nurse and a doctor were both wrapped in fake spider web. Blood seeped from their heads which were no longer attached to their bodies, but rather lying on the floor with looks of terror forever frozen on their faces. Lit jack-o-lanterns were placed on the empty stump of their necks. Their stomachs were hollowed out and filled with the candy that had been set out on the front desk for visitors. Blood, bile, and other viscous fluids dripped onto the floor from their abdominal cavities. The sight made the doctor never want another Reese Pumpkin. Their intestines and entrails were arranged on the floor, spelling out the words “Trick or Treat.”

The Brookhaven Butcher was back.

***

7:30 p.m.

“This party is going to be off the hook!” Chris yelled across themaze of cheap decorations and orange lights that filled the yard.

“Damn right it is,” replied Craig, his twin brother, as he arranged plastic skeletons in various, creative sexual positions on the front porch. “We’ve been planning this shit since July!” He laughed at his cleverness and handy work. Nothing said that you were at a college Halloween party like plastic skeletons humping by the front door.

The sun was setting on the cool Halloween Eve as Chris and Craig — dressed as a werewolf and Dracula, respectively — completed the finishing touches on their self-proclaimed masterpiece. Their run-down rental house was covered in fake spider web, various lights, fog machines, stand up monsters, jack-o-lanterns, and an old wooden coffin propped up on two not-so-sturdy wooden stools. The coffin was full of about a thousand orange and purple Jell-O shots. They got the coffin from their token sketchy friend who claimed to have “borrowed” it. They didn’t ask too many questions. Chris also had about two hundred dollars’ worth of weed that he had been saving up in his room for months. He planned on putting most of it in his lungs tonight.

The festive atmosphere was complimented by a hidden boom box blasting spooky sound effects. They really had gone all out for one last Halloween party their senior year of college. Since freshman year, the brothers and roommates had discussed throwing the ultimate throw-down-get-the-cops-called-cover-the-house-in-fake-spider-web-wake-up-naked-in-a-pool-of-vomit party but never had the chance to do it….until now, their senior year. This was their last chance and they were going to take it. Their huge, five bedroom house had a sprawling yard, making it the perfect location.

Some of their friends from school had already shown up, girlfriends in tow, and were already in the house starting to demolish the shots and tap the keg, even though it was only 7:30. They were sure to be passed out by midnight. After all, these weren’t the type of people to pass up free booze, especially on Halloween – which, for college kids, was the ultimate excuse to party.

Halloween had been special to them since they were kids. Their mom would take them trick or treating every year and always put her precious boys in the cutest and most stylish costumes. As they got older, the costumes got progressively less cute and more bloody.

They lived in that one house in seemingly every suburban neighborhood that was always decked out for Halloween, complete with cheap, phony tombstones for each member of the family, with their names and “funny” sayings etched on to them. When the boys moved off to college and eventually rented their own house, they continued the family tradition.

A car door slammed. “Jesus Christ, this place looks like a murder scene.”

Chris turned around and saw Holly. She was a classic “I’m different and better than you” college girl. She had an arm full of generic tattoos, shaved her head sophomore year in protest, and had already tried being a lesbian, a vegan, and a Buddhist. Almost everyone hated her. Too bad she was the best friend of his girlfriend, Autumn, who was the exact opposite; pleasant, friendly, kind to everyone, and didn’t think their house looked like a crime scene.

Their unlikely friendship was truly baffling.

“It looks great, boys!” Autumn called out to Craig and Chris. She and Craig had been dating since their senior year of high school and followed each other to college. It was about time he proposed. She was dressed as the Bride of Frankenstein to go along with the theme of classic monsters with her boyfriend and his brother.

Chris glared at Holly. “I know it looks great. We’ve worked our asses off and it was totally worth it.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It seems like a waste of time and money to me. Halloween stopped being fun when we were like twelve. Halloween is an excuse for girls to wear a slutty nurse costume, choke on their own vomit, and get date raped. No thanks, I’ll pass. Besides, I have a paper to write.”

Chris returned her stare. “Holly, when are you going to learn we don’t give a shit what you think?”

“Let’s not fight, guys,” Autumn said, attempting to keep the peace. “I’m taking Holly home. I just wanted to stop by on my way to see if you guys need anything. After I drop her off, I’ll be right back.”

Craig walked over to his girlfriend. “We’re good, babe. Thanks for asking though.”

She smiled at him. “That’s what I thought. I assumed this was happening when I tripped over a bag of orange Solo cups over Labor Day weekend.”

Craig laughed and kissed her. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Hey wait a sec,” Chris said with concern in his voice. “Did you all get that creepy campus alert text this morning?”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Autumn asked. “Escaped mental patient from the university hospital? On Halloween of all nights. I was an intern there last semester for my Psychology minor and it seemed pretty safe. Like, I don’t know how someone got out.”

“It’s almost like they did it on purpose,” Holly said, ever the cynic.

Chris looked at her in disbelief and said, “What do you mean they did it on purpose? It’s a campus-wide security alert, not an Internet conspiracy theory. This isn’t chemtrails. Do you think Tupac is still alive, too?”

Holly, as she is forever inclined to do, lectured the group. “It’s probably some bullshit made up by the University to prevent a bunch of parties and God knows what else. Remember hearing about those kids that were murdered on Halloween, like twenty-five years ago or something?”

Chris, Craig, and Autumn looked at each other and shrugged.

“No, what happened?” Autumn asked.

“Oh yeah, I forget you guys aren’t from here,” Holly said. “Back in like, 1989 or something, this teenager murdered a bunch of his classmates on Halloween and ended up being locked away in the mental hospital. He escaped again about ten years ago. It’s a bullshit urban legend. Other people say it’s true and everyone says they know someone who was there or knew someone who knew the killer. I don’t remember what people called him…”

A voice from across the yard interrupted her dramatic pause to provide the answer. “The Brookhaven Butcher.”

Goober, their third roommate, approached them carrying a brown paper bag full of Fireball from the liquor store down the street. He was of indeterminate age and seemed to have been in college for years. He was the type of guy who could walk into any place in the western hemisphere and know at least one person there. He’d gotten drunk and kicked out of every single bar in town at some point in his potentially immortal life. Naturally, he was dressed in a Beetlejuice costume.

“We’ve come for your daughter, Chuck,” he said in his best, surprisingly accurate Beetlejuice voice. Chris, Craig, and Autumn immediately got the joke.

“Man, this place is beautiful, it’s a God damn masterpiece,” Goober said as he pretended to wipe away a tear. “So, are you all saying that the text alert this morning was about the Brookhaven Butcher? It’s possible, you know. It is Halloween!”

“Yeah, and it’s total bullshit,” Holly sneered. “Just another story to scare kids.” She stood with her hand on her hip, mocking them.

Goober shook his head. “It’s not bullshit. Not even a little.”

“What’s the story then?” Chris asked. “It better be scary,” he said in a failed attempt at a Bela Lugosi voice, unintentionally sounding like Count Chocula instead.

Goober cleared his throat, readying himself for the oration. “The Brookhaven Butcher is not an urban legend. He’s as real as you and me.” He dropped his voice to a lower register to amplify the effect. “On Halloween 1989, he was a senior in high school. His whole class had a Halloween party. He was, to put it mildly, a loser. Total psycho. Anyway, the entire senior class of Brookhaven High was invited, except for him. He just…snapped.” He emphasized the word by clapping his hands together, causing the group to jump and laugh.

Goober raised his hands to settle the group and continued. “He put on a pumpkin mask — you know the kind with the scary face? He stole a butcher knife, a gun, and a chainsaw from his parents, packed them up in a car, and drove over to the house of the most popular girl in school, which is where the party was. He kicked down the door, fired up the chainsaw, and just started hacking up his classmates. When the chainsaw ran out of gas, he pulled out the gun and started shooting. All while this is happening, a terrible fire broke out from a knocked over jack-o-lantern. Only a few of the kids survived. Half the house burned to the ground before the fire department arrived. The Butcher stood outside and watched the house burn, enjoying hearing his victims scream as they burned and bled to death. He was caught later that night and locked up. Every few years on Halloween, he escapes to finish what he started. Last time was in 2004. He killed a few students. The police tried to cover it up by saying it was a group murder-suicide. They didn’t want a mass panic and people leaving town, you know, because of the college. Now, it looks like he’s at it again. The Butcher is back for another sequel!”

Goober was a seasoned storyteller; a trait that came with being the life of the party.

“Morning my ass! More like mid-afternoon!” Chris teased him. “You’re going to party tonight and deal with this tomorrow.”

Holly opened the car door, her expression predictably sour. “Excuse me? What about me? I’m not staying at this shit show for a second longer.”

“Call an Uber,” Chris suggested.

Just as he suggested a way out for Witchy McBitch, an Uber pulled up and out came Shelly, Autumn’s best friend from elementary school.

She stumbled out of the car, followed by an overly tan, beefcake guy with dark hair exiting from the other side. Autumn and Holly stared at him, the boys even joined in. He was practically naked and only wearing a tight, gold Speedo, which appeared to conceal a kielbasa. Shelly was also almost naked, wearing a two piece, white, vinyl, naughty nurse costume. She and this male centerfold made a striking pair. Shelly looked like she could be one of Hugh Hefner’s girlfriends with her long, dyed-blonde hair, perpetual spray tan, and rumored-to-be-fake breasts.

She threw a wad of cash at the skinny, young Uber driver, and blew him a kiss. “Keep the change!”

Holly rolled her eyes towards Autumn. “God, please get me out of here.”

Holly and Shelly had never been able to get along, even though Autumn tried. She hadn’t given up yet.

Shelly turned around and faced the group. “Happy Halloween, bitches!” She was swigging from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. “Oh, guys, this is Armando. He’s from Spain,” she turned to Autumn and whispered, not so discreetly, “he’s hot as fuck and hung like a horse.”

Holly huffed at the crude remark. The boys stared at the ground attempting to divert their eyes from the massive, gold-wrapped package before them. Armando didn’t seem to understand, he just stood and smiled. Autumn let out a small laugh. Everyone was used to Shelly’s lack of decorum, which is exactly why you wanted her at a party.

“Nice to meet you, Armando,” Autumn said and held out her hand. He kissed it and she blushed. Craig glared.

“Hola!” he said to the group.

“He doesn’t know much English,” Shelly said as she patted him on his disturbingly shiny chest.

“Guys, stop it!” Autumn yelled as she jumped between her bickering buddies. “Please, don’t fight. This is supposed to be a good time. Don’t ruin it.”

“I’m not even supposed to be here,” Holly stated. “I’m calling an Uber.”

As Holly was scrolling through her phone and planning her escape, a group of about fifty or more people in various costumes appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. They were yelling and dragging a Radio Flyer wagon full of beer and vodka. The group dispersed into the house around them, some high-fived and thanked Chris and Craig for the party.

“I’m pretty sure that was my entire Sociology 410 class and everyone I’ve ever met,” Craig said after the group passed.

“Did you mean to invite them all?” Autumn asked.

“Not exactly,” Craig said. “I told a few people and suggested that they tell some of their friends.”

Shelly nodded. “Looks like they listened. It’s going to be great! The more the merrier!”

“The same also applies to your vagina,” Holly replied.

Shelly gasped. “Fuck you!”

“Not in a million years,” Holly said dismissively.

Shelly ignored her freshly done nails and slapped Holly across the face. The distinct sound of hand on flesh triumphed over the spooky sound effects and thumping music from inside the house, where the party was already raging.

Holly lunged towards Shelly and hit her back. Autumn yelled for them to stop. Shelly grabbed Holly’s hair and threw her to the ground. They clawed, bit, and slapped one another.

“Fucking bitch!” Shelly yelled.

“Guys, stop it! Please! Do something, Craig!” Autumn demanded.

“Babe, you know I love you but I’m not breaking up a girl fight. That shit is terrifying,” Craig said as he backed away.

“He’s right,” Goober said, “breaking up a girl fight is also the ultimate party foul. You just gotta let ’em get it all out. I already have one scar from breaking up a girl fight. I don’t want another. They’ll stop soon enough.”

Shelly spat blood onto the ground. The saliva bubbles sparkled in the orange lights. Holly took Shelly’s moment of weakness and used it to make her escape. She stood up and ran towards the front porch, knocking over some decorations on the way. Shelly yelled out a war cry worthy of Xena and chased after her.

Autumn ran after them, as Craig, Chris, and Goober followed. “Please, guys! Stop! Please!” she begged and cried to no avail.

Shelly caught up with Holly and knocked her to the ground with a surprisingly powerful punch.